Do you remember me?
by Starfan1245
Summary: Sam and Dean find Castiel while they are finishing a hunt. The only problem is, he Cas can't remember who he is, who the Winchesters are, or why he's always got this urge to protect them from danger... Set after 7x08.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Sam and Dean find Castiel while they are finishing a hunt. The only problem is, Castiel can't remember who he is, who Sam and Dean are, or why he's always got this urge to protect them from danger... Can Sam and Dean help him get his memory back?**

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><p>"Dean, I know that this thing is special to you, and it is to me too, but don't you think that we should wash it now?"<p>

Dean poked his head out of the motel door to see Sam holding up the familiar beige trench coat. It dangled from his gentle hold on it, waving lightly in the breeze. Dean scrunched up his nose. "You ever suggest that again and I'll shove you into the washer," he retorted and walked back inside to start cleaning the guns from the previous hunt.

"I'm just saying," Sam replied as he walked in and shut the door to prevent more ice-cold winter air from seeping in. "It's starting to really smell, and when cops catch you with it in the trunk, it's not going to be easy to slip away."

Dean gave his brother the best evil eye that he could. "I'll tell you this one more time, Sammy," he growled. "We are NOT going to do anything with that damn trench coat. It will stay the way it is."

Sam softened. "Does it comfort you?" he asked. "Does it, oh I don't know, smell like him or something?"

Dean gave him a look. "I'm not gay, Sammy," he said and set the first gun down. "It's just... I hope that he'll..."

Dean trailed off. Sam, knowing already what his brother had intended to say, sunk down on the other side and wordlessly began cleaning the guns. Dean shot him a grateful look, and they worked in silence.

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><p>It was just a typical salt-and-burn case. The job was done within about three days, and the last day found Sam and Dean packing up slowly, cleaning bloody clothes and stitching up wounds that had opened during the fights with the spirits.<p>

"I'm telling you, Sammy," Dean was saying. "This town has some pretty hot chicks. If you actually wanted to hook up for one night, now would be your chance."

Sam cracked a smile. "I think I'll pass, thank you," he stated. "I'm still getting over that whole Becky incident."

Dean laughed. "I got a picture," he grinned, holding up his phone, "just so that one day you'll look back and remember the good times."

"Considering I don't even remember most of it, I hardly think that's fair," Sam replied and walked into the bathroom.

Dean grinned after his brother and was about to take his bag out to the new crappy car, when his phone began to ring. Confused, he looked at the contact's name, and stopped dead in his walk. Slowly, he answered and raised it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Who the hell are you?" the familiar voice from the other end demanded in a harsh, almost threatening tone. "And why do I have your number?"

Dean shifted the phone to a more comfortable position and hesitated. "Um, this is my old friend's number," he responded. "Do you maybe have his phone or something?"

"Listen," the man replied, ignoring Dean's question. "I want you to delete my name from your phone as soon as you hang up, because I will be sure to delete yours. Understand?"

Dean swallowed, thinking for a long time. Finally, he spoke. "Who is this?"

"Good," the man on the other end sounded pleased; Dean could almost hear the smile in his voice. "We never talked. I don't know you, and you don't know me. So just hang up the phone and forget that this conversation ever happened."

Dean was about to reply when the man hung up and Dean's phone buzzed, letting him know that he had been disconnected. He pulled the phone back and looked at the screen, making sure that he was hearing right.

At this point, Sam had rounded the corner, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, hazel eyes full of confusion and worry. "Dean?" he asked around the toothbrush. "Who was that?"

Dean looked up and snapped out of his trance. "Huh? Oh, um, I don't know," he responded and went back to looking at his phone. "But whoever it was... They called from Castiel's number."

Sam spit in the sink and rinsed his mouth out. "Track it down," he responded, drying his mouth with a hand towel. "Didn't you put a GPS on his phone?"

Dean's hope rose as he grabbed Sam's laptop and typed the number in on the GPS website. The computer loaded, and then a bright red circle surrounding a silver phone popped up on the screen. Dean studied the location, and then coughed. "It says that he's here," he told his brother. "In town."

Sam pulled on a shirt and stared at him. "Where?"

Dean ignored him. Shutting the laptop, he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on.

"C'mon," he mumbled, making his way quickly to the door. "We're going."

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><p>Turns out, the place where the phone call had been made was at the town's bar, a place that Dean had visited just the night before after the long hunt. He parked his blue car, which stood out embarrassingly against the cooler cars that he had taken more interest to.<p>

Sam climbed out and looked at the bar. "How did Castiel's phone manage to travel all the way over here?" he asked, slamming the door shut.

Dean shrugged. "Let's find out."

They walked in the building, which was warm and nice compared to the snow and freezing winds outside. Sam and Dean stopped in the doorway and looked around. Being a Saturday night, the place was crowded.

Sam shivered involuntarily. "How the hell are we supposed to find his phone in this place?"

"We'll check whoever pulls out their phone," Dean replied, obviously not having a better plan. "In the meantime, let's get a drink."

"Dean," Sam scolded. "We need to get that phone."

"Aw, lighten up, Sammy," Dean nudged his brother playfully. "I saw that they had sasparillas here." He winked.

Sam made a face but followed his brother to the bar.

They sank down onto the two bar stools and surveyed the place. There were men and women dancing together to the blaring music pouring out of the speakers, men getting drunk and throwing bottles at each other, men playing pool for money, men and women playing poker... Dean smiled, "This place has got everything!"

"Dean, we're not here to play games," Sam reminded him sternly.

The bartender, who had previously had his back to Sam and Dean while he busied himself on the other side of the counter, turned around for the first time and asked to the back of the brothers' heads, "What can I get you fellas?"

The voice had Sam and Dean's heads snapping around, and when they saw who the bartender actually was, Sam tipped backwards and almost fell out of his seat, had he not grabbed onto the bar. Dean's eyes widened and he paled so much that it looked like he would pass out at any moment. "Castiel?" they both cried.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! I'm so glad you guys like it :) Thanks a ton to Ginnylove9990, valeskathesilverwolf, LA suka, pmaree79, Perry, and Maddy Love Castiel for their kind reviews! You guys rock :)**

**Disclaimer: I probably should have put this in the first chapter, but they're not mine.**

**Part 2!**

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><p>Castiel blinked at the two men in front of him. "I'm sorry, who are you again?" he asked.<p>

Sam and Dean slowly straightened. Dean squinted at his old friend, trying to confirm himself that the man in front of him was Castiel. "Cas, dude!" he cried, still not believing what he was seeing. "We thought you were dead!"

The former Angel scrunched up his face and leaned back a little, pondering. "I'm sorry," he apologized, looking genuinely upset. "I don't know who Castiel is." He pondered for a moment, then looked a little hopeful. "Is that my name?"

Dean's face fell as Sam leaned close to him. "Dean," Sam hissed. "It could be possible that Castiel released Jimmy if he got out of the water."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, a hint of reject creeping into his voice. He looked up at Castiel, or Jimmy, whichever one it was. "What's your name?"

"I- I don't know," Castiel/Jimmy replied, stumbling on his words and twisting a white rag nervously around his hands. He looked down at his feet, almost ashamed. "They named me Joe, but I don't know what my real name is."

"Joe," Dean repeated, just to confirm what he had heard. He thinned his lips and rested his arms on the bar, facing sideways. "Well then."

Sam focused more on Castiel/Jimmy/Joe, whoever he was. "So what do you remember?"

If possible, the young man looked even more nervous and upset. "I don't remember anything," he responded, gathering the rest of Dean's attention. "All I remember is waking up on the ground, next to some sort of lake. I wandered around for days until I came here. The man gave me a job, and I've been here ever since."

Dean cast Sam a glance. They shared some sort of mental conversation between themselves, while Castiel/Jimmy/Joe watched on, and then they turned back to him. "Yeah, well, you're coming with us back to our motel room," Dean replied.

Castiel/Jimmy/Joe backed up, shielding himself. "No way," he protested. "You aren't going to take me anywhere."

"Cas…"

"Dean," Sam warned his brother, giving him a stern look. He then turned back to the bartender. "Castiel, or Jimmy or Joe or whatever you prefer to be called, my name is Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean. We knew you before… well, before you forgot everything."

Castiel/Jimmy/Joe still looked unconvinced.

Dean sighed. "What if we told you that we can help you get your memories back? Would you like to know what happened to you in your past life?"

Castiel/Jimmy/Joe blinked, and then slowly uncurled. He sighed. "My shift is over in a half an hour," he conceded. "I'll meet you at your motel room."

"Nice try," Dean smirked. "You don't know where our motel is. We'll just hang out until you're done."

Castiel/Jimmy/Joe let out a breath and turned around to hide a bemused smile.

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><p>The motel room was nicer than his own apartment, CastielJimmy/Joe thought to himself as Sam unlocked the door with an old rusted key attached to a plank of wood with the number "43" on it. The brothers seemed as ease as they automatically began undressing into more comfortable clothes.

Castiel stood in the doorway, feeling awkward and out of place. They had agreed that he would respond to the name "Castiel", because that's what the brothers were used to and they would constantly forget to call him "Joe", as he was used to. He looked around, wondering what to do.

Dean finally noticed him as he was pulling a loose forest-green shirt on. "You wanna crash in my bed tonight?" he offered, almost hesitantly.

Castiel looked at the dirty, unmade queen sized bed, a little uneasy.

Sam shot Dean a look. "Dean, we're supposed to be getting out of town. The cops were already on us even before we got the ghost."

Dean frowned at his younger sibling. "One night won't hurt us," he protested, and smiled at Castiel. "So do you want the bed or not?"

Castiel hesitated, then slowly sank down on a wooden chair at the table and smiled up at their confused faces. "This is very comfortable, thanks."

Sam gave a nervous laugh. "Cas, you don't have to sleep there," he told the man and gently took him by the arm and led him away from the table and towards his own, neater bed. "You can sleep in mine, if Dean's bed just grosses you out." He tossed a look over his shoulder.

Castiel sank down onto the bed and pulled his legs underneath the covers. The bed was quite comfortable, but he hadn't slept ever since he woke up. He had found that the need just didn't really affect him. He gave Sam a grateful look. "Thank you."

Sam nodded and smiled. "Anytime," he responded, and then walked over to the table and settled down.

Castiel looked confused, because Sam had just taken him away from resting at the table, and yet he had just settled at the table himself. Dean couldn't help calling out, "Have a good sleep, Sammy."

Sam frowned at him and stuck up his middle finger, which must have been a bad thing because Dean laughed while feeling a little offended at the gesture. Curious himself, Castiel raised his own middle fingers and stared at them with wide, baby blue eyes. This caused the brothers to burst out laughing as they watched Castiel's experiment. Turning red, Castiel quickly shoved his hands under the ugly brown covers.

"Word of advice, Cas," Dean called as he reached over and shut the dim light off. "Don't ever do that to anyone's face."

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><p>Castiel didn't sleep that night. Instead, he stayed in the bed and watched the door. He had a vague idea to attack everyone who even thought about walking through. He had no idea where this thought came from.<p>

Gradually, the room brightened as morning approached. The light showed Castiel that, at some point through the night, Sam had crawled on top of the covers of Dean's bed and was laying on one side of the bed, his brother on the other. Dean was turned towards Sam, his face stiff and firm, hiding emotion even in his sleep.

When Dean's eyes flickered open, Castiel feigned sleep, as if that would do any good. He heard Dean mumble "Little girl" and then a thump as Sam most likely was pushed off of the bed.

"Jerk," Sam shot at his brother. Dean shushed him and Castiel cracked his eyes open just enough to see Dean pointing at him. "Oh." Sam understood.

Dean grabbed some clean clothes and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door but not locking it. Sam stood up, pulled a sweatshirt on, and then grabbed a set of keys and left the room.

When the door shut, Castiel stood up and stretched. He wasn't really used to lying down for a long time; he was usually up walking around all night. He busied himself by making the motel bed until all the wrinkles were gone, and then worked on the other bed.

About halfway through making the second bed, Dean walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Hey, you're up!" he commented and dug into his duffel bag. "And… Did you make that bed?"

Castiel blushed and looked over at the bed that he had laid in all night. "Um, yes," he responded in a soft, hesitant voice. "I thought that it was proper?"

Dean laughed. "Dude, they have maids that do that shit," he informed the confused young man. "You don't have to make the bed."

"Oh." Castiel stood there, not sure what to do after that.

Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. He walked back into the bathroom, shut the door again, but not before mumbling, "This is going to be a long day" loud enough for Castiel to hear, which didn't make much sense to Castiel, because weren't all days the same length of time?

Castiel finished making the bed anyways.

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><p>Sam arrived back at the motel a couple minutes later. Castiel had busied himself at the table, studying the browning flowers that were floating in a cracked glass vase filled with dirty water. He eyed the three cups and the bag that Sam was carrying, curious once again. "What is in there?"<p>

Sam placed them down on the table. "Coffee," he gestured, "and donuts. Dean likes them."

Castiel nodded. In all, he hadn't really eaten anything. Although he was willing to bet that he could eat, he was perfectly fine walking around throughout the day and night without having food in his stomach.

He peeked in the bags as Sam slammed his fists roughly on the door, shouting that Dean was taking too long in the bathroom. Dean shouted some words back that Castiel had heard before and had been warned not to use by a helpful woman he had met. That was, of course, before she slapped him and walked roughly away.

"Oh boy, donuts and coffee!" Dean cheered, obvious joy laced in his words. He plopped down next to Castiel in the only remaining chair and opened the bag, pulled out a chocolate covered donut, and took a huge bite out of it. The way the chocolate frosting stuck to the corners of Dean's mouth made Castiel feel differently about the donuts, but he leaned back and didn't say anything.

Sam rolled his eyes, grabbed his coffee and threw a napkin in Dean's face, mumbling something about "eating like a human being" before he sat down on the edge of the made bed and took a long sip.

Dean wiped his mouth and began talking. "So, Cas," he began. "What do you remember from the moment you woke up?"

"Well," Castiel began, thinking back… "I woke up right next to some sort of pond or lake. I wasn't wet or anything, so I don't think I was ever in the water. Anyways, I got up and just began walking. Eventually, I came along a road, so I followed it all the way to this town. I must've been wandering around that bar too long, because the manager came out and yelled at me that if I was going to pace right outside so much, I should get a job working there. So he tossed me the apron and told me that my first job was to wipe down all the tables. He eventually asked me about my name, and I told him that I didn't remember mine. That's when he named me Joe."

"How long have you been here?" Sam asked.

"About a week," he responded, looking down at his hands. He didn't speak for a while, unsure what he could say to them that would be important. Finally, he remembered why he had even showed up in the first place with them. "What do you know about my past?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "Um, I'm not sure that you should know about all the stuff you did all at once," Dean began.

Castiel leaped up from his position on the old wooden chair. "You told me that you knew all about my past. I even stayed in your apartment because I thought that you would tell me what happened."

"We do know what happened, Cas," Sam tried, talking in a soothing voice to calm the distressed man. "It's just that… Well, we're not sure that you would believe what we told you about yourself."

"Try me," Castiel hissed. "It's my past. What happened to me? I want to know."

Dean sighed. "We're not positive," he began, "but you could be an Angel named Castiel."

"Angel?" Castiel asked. "_Could be?"_

Sam cut in. "If not, your name is Jimmy Novak. And you would be human, in this case."

Castiel sunk back into the chair. Okay, so either he was an Angel named Castiel (_really? An Angel?_), or he was a human named Jimmy Novak. Which one made more sense?

He thought about it for a second. "Would the whole Angel thing explain the wings on my back?" he offered honestly. In all, he had always been confused as why they were there, more importantly why no one ever saw them.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "Yup," Dean said gruffly, finishing his donut and standing up. "You're the Angel."

"Castiel," Castiel whispered to himself. "My name is Castiel."

Sam took the empty bag and coffee cups and dumped them into the little garbage bin next to the sink. "Well, Cas," he began. "We actually have to leave here, and you have to come with us."

Castiel snapped out of his stupor, blinked rapidly, and stared at Sam. "Oh, yeah okay, I'll come."

Dean smirked at him from the other side of the room. "That easily convinced, huh?"

"I want to learn more about my past."

Dean nodded and, flinging his bag over his shoulder, opened the door and walked out. Castiel stood up as Sam grabbed his bag. "What do I do?" he asked.

Sam hauled his own bag and the weapons duffel over his shoulder. "Just follow me outside," he replied. "Dean'll be in the car. I'm running to grab some waters from the vending machine quickly."

Sam walked out the door. Castiel stood in place for a second, surveying the place one last time. He was about to follow the brothers outside when he spotted something sticking out from underneath the end of the bed farthest from the door. He slowly made his way over, wondering if it was left here for a reason.

He grabbed the tip and pulled it out. It was a beige coat of some kind. It was quite long, and had a small foul odor emitting off of it, but it was a coat nonetheless, and knowing that it was cold outside, Castiel slipped it on over his simple outfit of a black v-neck shirt and faded jeans that he had been wearing since last night. The outfit itself had been given to him for free from the manager of the bar, claiming that the outfit he had been wearing was too fancy to be in a bar. That, and the fact that, to the manager, it reeked of fish.

The long coat was surprisingly comfortable, and he held his arms out in front of him and studied the way he looked in it.

He heard Dean even before he walked through the open door. "Hey Cas! You…" And Dean trailed off at that point, voice failing him.

Castiel turned around to find Dean standing in the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes. He was opening and closing his mouth, considering what to say. Castiel looked down at himself, almost self-consciously. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Am I not supposed to wear this?"

"No," Dean choked out quickly. "It's just… It's nothing, Cas, really." He gestured at the young man. "It looks good on you."

Castiel could tell that something about the jacket was upsetting Dean, so he began to take it off. "I'm sorry."

"Keep it on," Dean demanded, so harsh that Castiel flinched before pulling the jacket back over his shoulders. "It's yours. You look fine in it. Wear it."

Castiel didn't question Dean. Instead, he tugged the jacket tighter around himself and followed Dean out to the car, making sure to shut the door behind himself.

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><p><strong>I always thought of Castiel as confused to the human ways, so if he seems, well, confused beyond necessary in this, please go along with it. Thanks for taking time to read this :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I feel just awful that I haven't updated this in a long time. I'm so sorry guys :( I had plans for where I wanted to take this story; it just wasn't playing out the way I wanted it to.**

**Please enjoy :)**

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><p>The drive lasted no longer than an hour before the stupid, noisy, teal blue car pulled through the trees and left them all in a clearing of a small house. It looked about the size for three, maybe four people, and Castiel found himself wondering just what the brothers did.<p>

Sam pulled the green duffel bags out from the back of the car and then, after slight hesitation, opened the angel's door. "You okay?" he called to Castiel. "You look slightly lost."

Castiel turned his eyes on the taller of the men, studying Sam's features. Although Sam's face was firm and steady, he looked tired and worn out, even stressed. "Something is bugging you," he stated matter-of-factly. "You are stressed and tired."

Dean turned and looked back at them, appearing confused himself at this new news. Sam just chuckled and replied, "Jobs will do that to you, Cas. Come inside; we have much to tell you."

Castiel slowly got out of the car and used the tip of his sneaker to burrow slightly into the mud. He had never really been anywhere besides the bar. He had never seen an area like this, for as long as he could remember. The slamming of the car door broke him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Sam shrug at him and motion him onward.

Castiel turned and followed Dean as the older brother made his way towards the house. The wood was painted a dark shade of brown; the roof even darker. It was perched on top of a slant, remaining upright and groaning at the slightest breeze. The trees around them creaked as they shifted; the whispering leaves a telltale sign of some wind.

Dean opened the door and gestured towards Castiel. The angel slowly stepped past Dean and walked into the entry way. The door lead instantly into an open room, containing a counter, sink, refridgerator and, farther back, a small table, couch, and TV. Sam and Dean followed him inside, Sam shutting the door and making his way over to the table to dump the bags on top.

"Do you live here?" Castiel couldn't help blurting as he stood in the entry way, unsure of what to do.

Dean chuckled softly. "Sort of. It's our friend's house. He no longer lives here, so we sort of took it from him. It's kind of like a retreat place, somewhere where we can stay if we need to."

"Oh." That made sense... Sort of.

"You can come in and sit down," Sam called to the angel, forcing Castiel to look up. "You don't have to just stand there."

"Yeah, Cas, buddy," Dean agreed as he reched into the refridgerator and pulled out three beers, one which he tossed across to Sam, who caught it with ease, and another which he held out to Castiel. "This is sort of your place now."

Castiel was slow to take the beer, but he supposed that this couldn't hurt him. Sam and Dean both managed to twist their tops off and took simultaneous sips. Castiel looked down at his drink and twisted his off, noticing that his came off a lot simpler than what the others had made it look like.

But looking down at the bent and misshaped cap in his hand, he realized finally that he might possibly be a little stronger than he realized. He slipped the cap into the trench coat pocket and took a long sip.

It left him gagging and coughing as the burning liquid sizzled down his throat. He practically spit the rest out onto the wooden floors of the house. Dean was at his side in an instant, thmping his back gently and laughing as he joked, "Don't choke on the liquor, Cas."

Sam wandered over, worry evident on his features, like it was well hidden on Dean. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Castiel straightened, struggling to breathe, and looked at the disgraceful brown bottle. "What is... this?"

Dean laughed harder. "It's alcohol, Cas. Didn't you ever sneak some working at that bar?"

"No..."

Sam glared at Dean. "Would you like some water, Cas?"

Slowly, still choking, the angel nodded and followed Sam to the refridgerator, where he handed him an unopened water bottle. "This'll taste better, I swear," the younger Winchester promised.

Castiel took the water and sat down on the couch. At first, it seemed lumpy and uncomfortable, but he grew settled to it and slowly sank back into it and watched the brothers walk around and work on whatever it was that they did. Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but listen in to their hushed conversation.

"I found something," Sam said quietly. "Northern Minnesota: couples hiking go missing."

"What are you thinking?" Dean replied, sitting down across from Sam. "Maybe vampires?"

"I was leaning more towards wendigo," Sam shrugged, flipping some loose hair off of his face. "Possibly an evil demon, who knows? There's nothing more here, besides the fact that the bodies never turned up anywhere."

"So, wendigo, then," Dean sighed and leaned back. "Should be simple."

"But what are we going to do about him?" Sam hissed, and Castiel knew that the conversation had drifted towards the fact that he was with them now.

"He's an angel," Dean responded. "He can fend for himself, Sammy."

"He doesn't even remember his first name, Dean. How can you be so sure that he'll remember how to use his powers? Or let alone what we're hunting?"

"He doesn't have to know anything," Dean responded. "We'll just tell him what we tell everyone else: that we're FBI agents and we're looking into something."

"I guess, but it's just that..." And then Sam trailed off. Castiel could feel the shift in attitude in the atmosphere. Suddenly, Sam was terrified and Dean was alert. Castiel opened his eyes and sat up, looking over at the pair.

Sam was sitting straight up at the table, eyes wide open and far away, as if he were seeing something that no one else could. Dean was alert, waving his hand in front of his brother's unmoving face. "Sam? Sammy?" he called, fear laced into his words. "Sam!"

Castiel could only watch with slight curiosity and a lot of confusion as Sam never responded, just kept staring off and flinching now and again, looking more scared than ever.

"Sam?" Dean called, loudly this time. "Is it Lucifer?"

Lucifer.

Castiel felt his body grow rigid and stiff. Suddenly, he could tell that he looked just like Sam did at the moment, but he couldn't tell why he was like this.

And then it all came to him.

Lucifer.

_Lucifer._

Lucifer, the archangel, God's favorite. _Father's favorite. _Rebellious. Evil. Devil.

_He was looking down as Michael warned him about the dangers. "There is an evil angel down there, Castiel. His name is Lucifer. He is the devil. He must never be released."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because if he were to be released, the world as you see it now would cease to exist."_

Castiel's eyes flew open and he was left staring up not at Michael, but at Sam and Dean. Sam seemed to have snapped out of his trance and he was staring nervously down at the angel. "Cas?" he asked. "You with us?"

Castiel sat up, ignoring the now evident pounding in his head. Dean looked at him curiously. "Dude, Cas," he explained, relieved. "You scared us. You just collapsed and started twitching!"

Castiel ignored him. "Lucifer," he stated firmly.

Sam flinched and shut his eyes.

"What about Lucifer?" Dean asked stiffly.

Castiel looked at the both of them. "He's my brother," he said, and Sam and Dean looked at each other with wide eyes.

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><p><strong>Thanks for all your reviews! In case you don't know what house I'm talking about, it's Bobby's replacement house, the one they're in after his burns down. I don't really remember where it was located or what it specifically looked like, so if it's different, I'm sorry.<strong>

**Reviews? Love you all :)**


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